Comfort for a Night
by Coyolxauhqui
Summary: SA: Set before Angel met Doyle and Cordelia in "City of Angels". Spike, having just been dropped by Drusilla, finds Angel in L.A.


Title: Comfort for a Night  
  
Author: Coyolxauhqui  
  
Pairing: Spike/Angel  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Archive: if you want it that's fine, just tell me where it's going  
  
Email: myfriendthekettle@yahoo.com  
  
Summary: Moon of Unrequited Love (Sentimental Heart) - Your soul may journey on a reflective adventure of spiritual discovery. Your emotions have been tossed to and fro. Now they will be calm and still in the knowledge that an unknown mystery is about to unfold. The harvest moon [the full moon in August] will bring a change in heart.  
  
Comfort for a Night  
  
Nothing ever works out like you hope. I went back to her, that summer, I went back to be her Spike again, to show her I was demon enough for her. But no matter what I did, I wasn't Angelus, and at last I discovered that it was him that she wanted. So I'm stuck, aren't I? She's gone, off cavorting with the demon of the week and I'm here, just crossing the border back into North America (where at least they speak some kind of English) with nowhere to go. No-one to see. I did consider going back to Sunnydale again, but I don't really have any desire to run into Mr and Mrs Melodrama again. Besides, I don't suppose either one of them would hesitate to stake me after how I kidnapped Buffy's friends. I wonder if they have things worked out yet… they probably have. The course of true love doesn't run smooth, but it usually gets there in the end. Unfortunately.  
  
I speed up the car, and head towards the city. The thing about cities like this is that they're chock full of miserable lonely bastards like me, who don't want to be around friends. No-one knows anyone, no-one cares about anyone and no-one stops anyone from drinking himself into oblivion. Perfect. Anyway, it's not that I begrudge him happiness. In fact, bugger that, yes I do. I don't want him to be happy when I'm so miserable, and he's the reason for it. He has his soul and he's in love with the Slayer, so he's taken himself off the cards, and he pretty effectively took Drusilla off the cards by being Angelus for her again. I'm almost desperate enough to start turning myself my own new friends – I've been known to do stupid things when I'm drunk. And, by the gods, I am *going* to get drunk.   
  
I look out of the car window. It's a full moon, the harvest moon if I'm not wrong. I smile, remembering how on the first night of the full moon, Drusilla used to… no, none of that. No use in getting sentimental. Tonight is not about remembering the past; tonight is about drowning it out and forgetting. I won't go back to her again. If she finds me, that's another story, but I'm through with running back to her. The only thing that hurts more than not going back to her is being sent away from her again. I'm not going through that again. I reach the city, the sudden blare of lights almost dimming the glow of the moon. I don't slow the car down, but speed away to find anywhere that will serve me a pint of blood and a shot of whisky.  
  
I park outside of a tacky looking club. I trudge in, sit down by the bar and order a scotch and some O negative blood. The inside of the place is too peaceful for my liking, too friendly and cheerful seeming. When will Americans learn? Drinking is about depression and desperation, not fun and friendliness. What I wouldn't give for a smoke filled, cramped, decrepit old pub full of old men crying into their pints, and big football hooligans giving smaller football hooligans a kicking outside… I hear a distant scream. Well, it's a start, I decide, and I down another shot. The scream comes again, and I hear some crashing and banging outside. A fight! Fantastic, I think, and run to the door. I open it, but don't go out. I'm stopped in my tracks. There's a girl there, red-headed, vulnerable looking. She's been bitten by a vampire, but he's currently in the middle of a fight with… yep, none other than Angel. I retreat back in, and wait for the blows to stop raining down outside. What is Angel doing in L.A.? Just getting into bar brawls, or is he here for a proper reason? I hear footsteps walking away, and creep out, determined to find out more about what's going on.  
  
As I'm stalking him, I notice something. He's not evil. He still has his soul, so the fight outside the bar was probably over something noble. Don't ask me how I know this, it's not like I just saw him help an old lady cross the road or anything, I can just sense when he's Angelus. Walks a little differently, looks a little less morose, that sort of thing. I'm still determined to solve the mystery of what he's doing here, why he's alone in L.A., who he's working for. He turns the corner and ducks into an office building. I follow, and he jumps out at me, armed with a stake. Oh, brilliant. "Spike," he says, game face on, angry.  
  
"Hello Angel," I say, "happy to see your ol' boy again?"  
  
"Why are you following me?" he doesn't lower the stake. I'm an inch from death, but then, that's fairly normal with Angel.  
  
"I'll take that as a no, shall I?" I ask, and the stake presses into my chest. "Ok! I just wondered what you were up to, that's all. Why are you in L.A.?"  
  
"Why are you?" he asks in return.  
  
"To get drunk!" I tell him. The stake is lowered a little. Taking my chance, I quickly whack it out of his hand and it falls to the ground. "I didn't know you'd be here. I thought you and Buffy would be all cuddles again by now."  
  
"It's over," Angel said, his face turning even more dour (if that's possible). "We're not together anymore."  
  
"Well," I say, "if it's any consolation – I know how you feel." He looks at me, understanding what I mean all too well. He actually looks sympathetic just now, rather than just seeing me as a demon he has to kill. Will wonders never cease?"You mentioned getting drunk?" Angel asks, and I smile and follow him into his flat. "… so," I finish my story, "Dru eventually turned me away again. And yes, I *do* blame you for that, just in case you're wondering."  
  
"Sorry," Angel says, and it sounds sincere. I think this break-up with the Slayer must have really got to him.  
  
"So what happened with you two?" I ask. "Didn't work out being 'just friends' after all?"  
  
"Pretty much," Angel says, and takes a mouthful of whisky. "We couldn't be friends, and we couldn't be lovers, for a lot of reasons, so I left. I've been here ever since, just trying to work towards redemption." I try not to smile, and fail. "What?" he asks.  
  
"Redemption!" I can't help laughing. "Oh, that is classic."  
  
"I don't expect you to understand," he says, looking irritated. "Remind me why I didn't kill you outside?"  
  
"I don't know," I say, "maybe putting up with me is atonement for your sins?"  
  
"More than likely," Angel says, and drinks from the bottle again. For vampire who used to like all the finest, you'd think he might have owned a couple of glasses.  
  
"So this redemption lark," I say, "basically you're just going about killing all the ghoulies and night-terrors you come across, right?"  
  
"Basically," Angel agrees. "Except for you, it seems."  
  
"Right," I say. "Well, good luck there. Have fun getting into fights every night, and just in general doing everything else you told me never to do."  
  
"That was different," Angel protests, "I was evil then. And you were an idiot."  
  
"And look," I say, "now it's the other way round. How times change."  
  
"You're still trying my patience," Angel says, "that much hasn't changed."  
  
"Yes, but I doubt that you'd…" I trail off, reluctant to finish the sentence. I take a drink from the bottle.  
  
"Why not?" he asks, and I almost spit it out in surprise. I cough, swallowing.  
  
"What?" I ask, incredulously."Nothing," he waves his hand dismissively.  
  
"No, not bloody *nothing*, you… Oh, fuck off." I see that look on his face, he's winding me up.  
  
"I didn't know you were that lonely," Angel says, grinning.   
  
"Yes you did," I point out, "and anyway, you're the one who was always desperate for it. I don't see why you're laughing."  
  
"Yeah," he says, "It wasn't like you ever crept into my room at night, or deliberately antagonised me." Good point, but still…  
  
"You've always been full of yourself," I tell him, "that's always been your worst feature. You always think I'm just going to come crawling back…"  
  
"And am I wrong?" his eyes meet mine. He has that superior but needy look again, a kind of ironic twinge to his lips. I return his smile with an arched eyebrow, and my own wicked, knowing expression that I like to think is seductive.  
  
"Maybe not," I admit, and suddenly I'm over beside him, and he's kissing me strongly on the mouth. His taste is almost the same as ever, and his hands holding my hips are no different than they were a century ago. His hold on me is firm, authoritative, and I'm beginning to wish I'd fed on a human being tonight, because I know I'm going to need all of my energy here.  
  
"This doesn't mean I won't kill you if I find out you've been eating people in this city." he said. "After tonight, you need to go."  
  
"But…" I'm disappointed. Deep down, I think I'm even hurt.  
  
"Seriously." He tells me, and I know I can't argue. This is Angel, not Angelus. Whatever kind of love we had, I know that, at least for him, it's over. To him, this is a one night stand – a little bit of nostalgia to comfort two lonely vampires. And while I'm trying not to be sentimental, I can't help but wish things were back to how they used to be.   
  
"Ok," I say. I know it's not the perfect situation, but I'm grateful for what I've got. I'm on his lap now, straddling his legs on the thankfully quite large armchair. He runs his hand over my plain black cotton t-shirt, causing goosebumps on the flesh beneath, and I take it in my hands and pull it quickly over my head. I then work on undoing the buttons of his shirt, allowing my fingers to lightly brush his skin at each one. He pulls me in for another kiss, thorough and passionate. Then he pushes me down on to the floor, and I barely even feel the ground hitting my back. He's rough with me, but that's how he always is. Even though it's been a long time, we both remember how to do this. I feel my boots coming off, and fuck, I hear the lace on the left one break. Still, I can't worry about that now, I have more pressing matters to deal with.   
  
And an hour later, I'm back a hundred years and lying next to my sire, whose arm is wrapped protectively around my waist. The sex was as savage and wonderful as it always had been, and he was as much my old Angelus as he had been all those years ago. It's almost unbearable to bring myself back to the real world, but I'm not stupid enough to think Angel could have me around while he's trying to earn his good-guy stripes. I'd be staked within the week.  
  
"Love you," I murmur, almost silently. He doesn't reply. I didn't expect him to, though I know he's not asleep yet. There's still only one person he really loves, and I know no-one's going to replace her in his mind any time soon. Still it wasn't a wasted night, I think, as I carefully move his arm and pick myself up. I know that Angel's life sucks just as much as my own, which in it's own way is a comfort. I get dressed and walk outside, and I don't know now if he's awake or asleep, but he doesn't stop me.  
  
Maybe it's the moon, maybe the post-coital afterglow, but I feel calm and serene as I walk out of the building. My love for Angel, like my love for Drusilla, is unrequited just now. But so what? I've still got me, and maybe it's time I was my own man for a while. Also I've still got hours before dawn, and feel like I could eat the whole city. I'm not forgetting Angel's threat, but it's not like he's going to be catching up with me any time soon, is it? 


End file.
